What Came After
by Codename-SN
Summary: "Wha... What are you doing, Allen?" It has been more than a century since the Holy War ended, but perhaps Allen was just a bit naïve in thinking that he could ever escape the horrors of it. [21st Century, Reincarnation AU. Short Fic.]


**SN:** Hello there! I'm finally back from my too long hiatus! It feels like it's been years since I last published something meaningful...

 **Shade** : It has been years, you idiot.

 **SN:** Anyways, I know that this is not many people —my followers— expected but sadly, I'm really not into **Naruto** right now. BUUUUUT, worry not! I'll definitely finish my **Naruto** fanfics one day! I just need to satisfy my **DGM** muse first. Like seriously, it haunts my bloody dreams.

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 **Warning(s):** Modern AU. Reincarnation. Angst. A _bit_ of horror, not much really, but I didn't know what genre would suit this exactly. **_Psychological issues_** , implied.

 **Pairings(s):** Implied.

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 **What Came After**

 **Chapter One: _Heartbeat_**

 **.**

 _Deep into the water_

 _Deep into the dark_

 _Deep into the places_

 _Stories have to start_

 _Peel open the layers_

 _Go in for the kill_

 _Bite into the onion_

 _Taste it for the thrill_

 _Got a fear of falling under_

 _Underneath the dream_

 _A fear of diving too deep_

 _Deep beneath the seams_

 _A fear of falling under_

 _Underneath the spell_

 _A fear of what the truth sees_

 _Secrets I will tell_

 _" **A Fear Of Falling Under** " _— **_Darren Hayes_**

* * *

"Hey, Lavi!" The aforementioned male turned around at the sound of his name, not pausing in arranging his books but tilting his head to show that he was listening.

The last bell of the day had rung just a few minutes ago and everyone was eager to leave the school building in favour of more fun activities. Well, other than the nerds or geeks who actually enjoyed spending their spare time pouring over dull textbooks. Then again, if he were being honest, he would most definitely fall under the latter category. Not that he was _particularly_ keen on the idea either as it was mostly history he was interested in. So, even if he could, he would rather read any historical documentary or novel than the syllabus he was given. Not to say he was bad with other subjects because he was not, his position among the top five in overall academic ranking was definitely a proof of that, it was merely that he did not enjoy them as much as he enjoyed history.

Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that his grandfather, whom he had spent most of his childhood with, was a history professor. The elder even had a massive library solely dedicated to the topic. Lavi had, naturally, developed a strong liking for the aforementioned subject after spending hours surrounded by those old but rather well-kept tomes. Rather than just _books_ , he could say that they had been his friends. His only companions during those lonesome days, after all, the old man could hardly be classified as a pleasant company most of the time. He was glad that Bookman had been there, really, but he could not exactly say that his grandfather was an ideal parental figure. Hell, he wasn't even sure how exactly he had survived all those years with him. He was only relieved that he had come out relatively intact, even if the said relativity was questionable at best. Then again —

"Heading out early?" A brash looking male —Daisya Barry, one of his friendlier classmates— asked. By then he was almost beside Lavi's desk.

An apologetic smile filtered across the redhead's face as his dominant left-hand automatically reached towards the bridge of his nose to steady the half-rimmed glasses. His dark haired companion had once commented on this habit of his, saying that he could not understand why he was always trying to fix his glasses when they weren't even slipping, further inquiring if everyone wearing spectacles also did that or was it just his nervous tick. He had laughed then, the comment both ridiculously random and equally amusing. Really, it was not as if it was a compulsion born out of anxiety or anything, simply because they could not feel the frame sliding down their noses did not mean his glasses were not on the verge of falling. Honestly, the woes of being the only bespectacled person in a group.

"Yeah, I'm kind of busy today." Lavi replied, slinging the backpack on his right shoulder. The other teen made a disappointed sound.

"Aw well, that sucks. But it's your loss really, missing out on the fun with our awesome group and all!"

A chuckle left his lips as they both walked towards the classroom door. "I think I'll live without it."

"Ha-ha. Funny."

"Thanks, I try." He received an amused snort in reply. "Well then, see ya' tomorrow Daisya."

"Later man." With a last wave in his direction the soccer enthusiast was walking in the opposite direction.

A silver cased cell-phone was flipped open as the teen left the maneuvering of hallways to his trusted muscle memory. After pressing a few buttons he brought the screen to his left ear, absentmindedly listening to the caller tune before it switched to an almost robotic voice. Person or no, with as much inflection as there was in their tone, it could be argued that perhaps a real robot would sound more human. Then again, maybe it was actually a computer generated voice. To tell the truth, the teen had never cared to find out and he really could not bother at the moment.

' _The person you're trying to reach is not answering the call. Please try again in a few minutes.'_

A frown marred his features as the call was disconnected. Discontented, he tried again.

' _The person you're trying to reach is currently not available_ — _...'_

' _The person you're trying to rea_ — _'_

' _The perso_ —'

He closed the phone with, perhaps, more force than necessary after yet another failed try before sliding it back in his pocket, looking up to see that he was almost at the entrance. He tried to smother the blossoming concern with the thought that the other boy might be sleeping. Considering the fact he had been feeling unwell since morning it was a high possibility. Not to mention if he was awake there was no way he would not answer his phone, sick day or not. He was just that polite. Comforted by the knowledge, Lavi reigned in his anxious side, at least for the moment. He could not help but push his glasses further up his nose, however.

The eighteen-year-old teenager took a deep breath as he exited the school premises. The warm wind caressed his freckled cheeks before twirling away, carrying the smell of pine cones with it. Dried leaves crunched under his shoes as he walked in long strides, his legs covering the distance so easily that he did not feel the need to run. After all, it would be kind of a waste to not savor the nice weather that had graced the present day. Deep green eyes surveyed the surroundings with a passive sort of fascination. The sunset colors encompassing the nature were, indeed, quite beautiful to look at, and autumn was definitely his favourite season, but even when faced with such vibrancy he could not help but think that there was something else that he found breathtaking beyond words.

Even though for most people pale shades such as gray and white were rather dull and boring, the redhead begged to differ. Sure, they may not be the most appealing colors one could think of but he thought they were certainly mesmerizing in their own right. Then again, maybe he was simply biased. After all —

It took him roughly twenty minutes of walking and ten minutes in a convenience store, most of which was spent standing in the slowest queue he had the misfortune of suffering in his entire existence as a human being (or maybe he was exaggerating because of impatience, but whatever the case, the fact remained that it was slow), to reach the intended apartment complex. His eyes scanned the letters imprinted on the wooden plaque, reading _Noah's Ark_ as they had done many times, for a brief moment before he walked inside.

It was a ridiculous name, his younger friend had commented once, when they were both lazing around on a summer day, under one of the many trees in the compound's vicinity, popsicles melting in their hands as they tried to battle the raging heat with flimsy paper fans. The boy was sure that whoever came up with the name "Noah's Ark" must have been an idiot. To which he had countered with the fact that the teen was still living there, was he not? The comeback had been quick, his tone bordering on monotonous, pointing out that this was the cheapest place he could get that was also close to school. The older boy had wisely kept his silence after that, but, of course, not before claiming that he found the name cool. It was creative. After all, these days most of the buildings were either named after the owners or a famous person or a sort-of-famous-person. Which, let's be honest, was so _not_ original. The other's reply had included a snort, and a muttered _idiot_. He had been rightfully indignant, not that his companion seemed to care. Really, the rather comedic situation ought to be more ridiculous than a name that had become the topic of their discussion.

The elevator stopped with a resounding _ding_ as the door opened on the ninth floor of the building. The redhead navigated the hallway with a familiar ease, soon finding himself in front of his friend's door. Sliding the grocery bags to his elbow he fished the spare key out of his jeans pocket before unlocking the door and stepping inside. He waited with bated breath for a few seconds, ears strained for the tiniest sound or some kind of indication that the sick teen was awake, letting out a breath when only silence met his ears. He didn't know what exactly he was expecting.

The flat was nothing fancy, for sure, painted in various shades of blue, white and violets with the basic furniture in corresponding hues, and that was just the living room. There was a painting too, hanging on the wall behind the couch, pastel colors more abstract than realistic depicting the ruins of a place long forgotten, a figure crying for the person who laid lifeless upon their lap and the crescent moon which only served to darken the shadows further. It unnerved him, if he were being honest, but for some reason the fifteen-year-old boy had quite a morbid taste when it came to these things. The other painting in his bedroom was even creepier. He could not fathom how anyone could sleep with a visage of a madly grinning clown, crimson tears trailing down his cheeks as he carried a coffin on his back, hanging above their head.

The peculiar tendencies of the boy aside, it was, at least, much cleaner and organized than the clutter he called his _home_. Not so much out of some sentimental value, but more so because it was convenient to call that three roomed —four if he counted the bathroom— apartment "his home" instead of "his apartment" or "his house". It would be quite troublesome, in his humble opinion, to say those mouthfuls of words when he could save himself some trouble by using a more common term. Then again, it did feel like a home, a place he would want to return to and a place where he belonged, sometimes, but perhaps that was not the correct description seeing as the feeling was not related to the place itself as much as it was with —

Lavi stilled.

His hands stopping mid air in the process of dumping the bag full of ingredients on the kitchen counter. A pair of dark eyes glared holes on the black-and-white checkered wallpaper in front of him as he concentrated on his surroundings. He was sure he heard something just now. It sounded like something falling on the ground, something that produced a kind of metallic sound. Few minutes passed in waiting yet he could hear no other sound following the abrupt disruption. The air, however, felt a lot different now. His lips tugged downwards in instant wariness. The first course of action, of course, involved checking on the invalid occupant of the flat before he could proceed to figure out just what had made that sound. Just as he was about to turn around, something halted his movements. He swore he saw something in the corner of his right eye. Approaching the other side of the kitchen with measured steps, he finally noticed the fallen drawer, its contents rattled and some even scattered on the floor. That, however, was not what caught his attention. He crouched down to properly inspect the shining drops of liquid that were definitely thicker in density than water. Unable to identify the exact color due to the dark floor, he swiped some on his forefinger and smeared it across his thumb while he was at it.

' _Huh. It's red.'_ The thought floated around his mostly vacant mind, for once, without registering the implications of such a thing. It smelled like salt and copper. The redhead drew a sharp breath. Why was there —

 **\- xxXxx -**

 _Ba-dumm_

 **.**

 _A drop of liquid fell on the ground._

 _Allen?_

 **\- xxXxx -**

He was on his feet before he could complete that thought, his pace hurried yet trying to be as silent as possible. His heart hammered inside his chest. With plenty caution he approached the bedroom, eyes narrowing when he found the crimson trail leading up to the once perfectly white door that was now stained with bloodied fingerprints. Peeking around the door frame he found the usually neat room in disarray. The bed sheets and blankets were falling halfway off the bed as if the occupant was wrestling with it prior to his awakening. The half-filled laundry basket across the room was toppled over, the clothes scattering around messily. The computer on the side blinked lazily, flickering between the black screen and the open word document for a minute before going black again. The bookshelf had a few missing spots and the lamp on the bedside table was knocked over, probably broken now, and… _goodness was that more blood?_ Needless to say, it was the messiest state he had ever seen this room in.

One curious thing that did not escape the teen's notice, even in his worried mindset was that the brown door, on the right corner of the room, was ajar. Perspiration gathered on his palms and he rubbed them on his clothes, wringing the bottom of his shirt in the process, as he slowly walked towards the bathroom. His glasses slipped again. Perhaps, this time it was the sweat gathering on his forehead that caused it, nevertheless, Lavi was glad for even that little bit of familiarity in this situation.

His fingers lingered on the aforementioned accessory for a second longer than necessary.

The floor was furnished with green tinted tiles and the walls themselves were painted in a medium shade of sea green. The color was comforting, the albino boy had said. It reminded him of the time he had spent with his foster father in a coastal region. Apparently, most of the man's family, distant cousins and whatnot, had settled somewhere beside the sea and they had gone to pay a visit. He had been around eight then. The teen remembered little of those days now, but he still recalled the feeling of safety and comfort and peacefulness he had felt while gazing at the vast sea. In time, he had come to associate those feelings with the color itself. It was not a bad thing, on the contrary it was quite endearing. Thinking about it, the redhead could say that it created a positively soothing atmosphere for just about anyone.

In spite of that, scanning the dimly lit room (because the lights weren't on and the subdued illumination from the bedroom only amplified the darkness within) Lavi could not stop the dread from surfacing under his skin in that moment, coiling around his abdomen in an extremely unpleasant manner. The colors muted by the lack of light were barely distinguishable from the shadows at this point and —

There was figure, shorter than him, standing in front of the mirror, leaning almost too close while his right palm rested against the reflective surface. The person —his wayward friend he realized a moment later— who was supposed to be resting and not trying to give him a heart attack, had his back towards him. Even so… even in the faint glow that turned the reflection indistinct and fairly ominous, he could _see_.

He could see, so, so _clearly_ , and, for once, he wished he could not.

* * *

 **.**

 **つづく**

| **Tsudzuku** |

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 **SN:** Well folks, hope you liked the first chapter! If all goes well the next one should be up soon but... we'll see.

This chapter was lightly looked over by " _ **The Kindly One**_ " but the final product hasn't really been beta-ed yet and my beta-readers just aren't answering at the moment so, I apologize for anything that was amiss. On the other hand, let me know if any of **_you_ ** are free to beta-read **DGM** fics. Because I'm writing **_more_**.

Oh yeah, if you want to know what **Lavi's glasses** look like, type _**"nuvue single vision half frame"**_. It should be there on Reading Glasses site.

 _ **Ja ne~**_


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